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A Brush With DEATH In The Mountains
A
mountaineer’s true account of survival
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It is close encounter not only with nature but with the God
of nature Himself. Standing on top of a towering mountain makes one feel as
if he had become closer to God in human form. When
standing on the highest portion of an area is a sensation as if one were
suspended between place and time. A mountaineer undergoing this experience
could only stand dumbfounded beholding the solemnity and sacredness of
witnessing the vastness of creation unfolded before him.
Elwin Deo A. Arroyo
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“It is a close encounter not only with
nature but with the God of nature Himself.”
The hut we’re in shook violently as the howling wind blew hard against it. Although the creaking noise was very annoying, I fell deaf to it. I could do nothing more but slump my body on the floor in utter tiredness.
The coldness of the dark night could render anyone helpless in its temptation to deep slumber. Even as I closed my eyes to float away into oblivion, sights and picture of the day’s experience still overwhelmed my thoughts.
As I looked blankly at the flickering flame of the kerosene lamp struggling to stay alit against the tease of the wind, I reflected on how my companions, Allan, a fellow student and Jonas, a professional, and I fought hard to stay alive.
The three of us have found shelter at a shanty owned by a widow and her children who warmly welcomed us when we pleaded for help early afternoon.
Mount Kanlaon forms a natural boundary between the Oriental and Occidental parts of Negros Island. Towering at a height of 2,465 meters above sea level, it is considered as the second highest peak in the Philippines, and a dormant volcano.
The Iloilo Mountaineering Club, a non-government organization dedicated to survey and help in saving the forests, organized the trip. The group is composed of students, most of them in the collegiate level coming from different universities around Iloilo, and professionals alike.
This trekking activity at Mt. Kanlaon was joined by about 30 people, mostly members of the organization, and some were applicants for membership.
The ascent to the mountain started at around 10 o’clock in the morning at Brgy. Araal, La Carlota, Negros Occidental on October 24, 1992.
By then, the weather was clear and promising a full visibility.
For us, mountaineering is a hobby worth pursuing. Though no concrete rewards promised, for a true-blooded adventurer, the essence of “conquering” mountains by reaching the summit is enough to make a nature-lover feel as if he were on top of the world, looking down on the pitiful beings who cannot share his
once-in-a lifetime experience.
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It is close encounter not only with nature but with the God of nature Himself. Standing on top of a towering mountain makes one feel as if he had become closer to God in human form.
When standing on the highest portion of an area is a sensation as if one were suspended between place and time. A mountaineer undergoing this experience could only stand dumbfounded beholding the solemnity and sacredness of witnessing the vastness of creation unfolded before him.
There was a deafening silence in all eternity in the utmost tranquility of nature never before experienced. The dew of the clouds instilled the feeling as if one were soaked in overflowing liquid of eternity.
Climbing a mountain isn’t easy at all. A climber must endure the rigorous negotiations with the unforgiving terrain, the cruel weather, the leeches, the risks and dangers, the rearing pain of cramped muscles, the bitterness of sweat flowing from the face to the tongue, the heat during daytime and the coldness of the night, the heavy burden of the backpacks, and of course, the inconvenience brought about by the absence of a decent toilet.
The period which the body must take in adjusting to the environment and strenuous activities has to take sometime, a day at least. For any climb, the first day is considered to be the most taxing and the slowest in pace. Nevertheless, we had to push ourselves to the limit to beat time.
By noon, we had to eat our packed meals along the way to save time. A few minutes of siesta is all it takes after eating before joining the trek.
By late afternoon we were still hours away from our targeted campsite. As the darkness of the evening fell we still had to conduct a night trek just to reach the campsite in the middle of the high mountain. We reached the place at around 8 o’clock that evening.
We have not reached the peak of the mountain yet and we still had to continue with the trek the next day. We pitched camp, cooked supper, and prepared to retire for the night.
By six o’clock the next morning, everyone was up, cooked breakfast and prepared to continue the assault to the summit.
We took off our night clothes and put on again the ones we used the day before, which were already damp of the evening dew. For a mountaineer, one way of surviving in such hostile environment is to make his baggage light by keeping his things dry and taking along only what is necessary.
Taking off cozy and dry bed clothes and putting on wet ones is very uncomfortable. Putting on wet socks and shoes is much worse. We had to break camp and proceed with the trek as soon as possible to heat up our bodies and fight temperature lower than 18 degrees Celsius.
Once the body starts sweating the discomfort lessens, for the garments gradually dry up. We were on track heading for the peak by about seven that morning.
We have already covered two-thirds of the height of the mountain and we would need only a few hours more to complete the climb to the summit.
As we continued, the surroundings got stranger and darker, and the vegetation got thicker. Moss covered almost entirely the trunks of trees. Humidity is considerably high in this area because of the thick foliage.
With these indications, we were sure that the peak was not far away. We passed by a rusty shaped bar measuring about four feet long and weighing up to 20 kilos believed to be a part of an airplane that had crashed years before.
The area had an eerie ambience, coupled with sounds of crickets and weird appearances of plants and trees not found in the lowlands. A few hours of strenuous uphill climb and the peak would be visible.
The climbing group was divided into three. The lead group was composed of those who could trek fast enough to be the head of the group. The body were those who can trek with moderate speed to maintain their place between the lead and the sweepers.
Sweepers were composed of the elders of the team and those capable of carrying heavy loads - since they “sweep” the path not only of things dropped or left behind but even injured comrades who could no longer maintain their pace.
By eleven o’clock that morning, the lead and the body of the team reached the shoulder of the mountain called Pagatapat, a portion with trees and heavy vegetation.
Among those in the body were the five of us from CPU Mountaineering Society, Jonas, Allan, Lemuel, Allison and myself. It was already the second time for Allan and me to climb this mountain. For Jonas, Allison and Lemuel, it was their first.
Surely, the excitement to scale the peak was so intense that the five of us decided to go ahead of the group and have a view of the dome.
We headed out to a clearing, and there in the thick clouds was the crater dome. Meters below us was the Magaja Valley, a depressed area considered to be the centuries-old dead crater.
The weather that day was not like that of the previous day. Without our knowledge, low pressure area had developed right over Mr. Kanlaon. Bringing along with it gustiness and thick clouds. The fog was so thick that vision was limited up to 10 meters only.
Nevertheless, the five of us decided to climb the dome, an hour’s climb from where we were. We could hardly see in the distance, the sun was not visible, and the wind did not blow to one direction
but manifested in a circling motion.
Climbing the dome wasn’t very difficult without seeing the top since we just had to follow the upward direction of the trees. Allan and I went ahead, five meters behind us was Jonas, the ten meters behind him were Allison and Lemuel.
Looking back, I could hardly see them. We were following an established path leading to the summit.
Certain that they were following, Allan and I decided to go on until we reached the crater. Along the way, the wind was so strong that we had to stoop down while walking, almost crawling.
Otherwise, we would be blown away, a very dangerous thing that could happen when crossing a ridge about six meters wide before reaching the mouth of the crater.
We dropped down on our bellies and viewed the crater. Below us was the seemingly bottomless pit to the depths of the earth with the stinging stench of sulphur. We could not see the entire crater because of the thick clouds.
A few minutes later, Jonas decided to go back to the campsite, for the weather was getting worse. He had left Allison and Lemuel waiting for us twenty meters behind. Hastily, Allan and I got up and joined Jonas in heading to the campsite.
The descent was more difficult compared to the ascent because of the weight of the body straining the toes. Maintaining balance was also very tricky. We reckoned our way back to the camp in the most inaccessible part of the mountain because of the lack of trail signs formed in the vegetation. There was no plant growth in the uppermost part of the mountain because of the high concentration of sulphur in the ground.
We were already descending for sometime, but there were still no signs of the our two companions or the campsite. A few hours more of descent but still there was no progress in sight.
Finally, we thought that we had lost our way. It was then three o’clock in the afternoon, three hours of sunlight left before darkness sets in. In the brevity of three hours we had to decide whether to go back to the top and find our way again of go down
and seek shelter for the night.
We must not waste time because we did not have any food supply with us for we left them in our backpacks in the campsite. Arguments rose on which decision We must not waste time because we did not have any food supply with us for we left them to take.
We tried to recall basic techniques of homing for base camp but to no avail – dead reckoning was impossible. The compass went berserk because of the magnetic field of the volcano, the sun was not visible because of the fog, and the wind did not blow in a definite direction.
If we go back to the top, we could be overtaken by darkness and succumb to hypothermia, because of the cold. Our most probable way of surviving was to head straight down. However, we could not see what was below because of the thick fog engulfing us.
If we descend further we could either be heading for civilization or be trapped in the old crater and freeze to death in the eleven-degree-Celsius temperature. It was a situation “between Cherubdis and Scylla.” Anything could happen in that mountain and we must find shelter to survive.
In the confusion we could only look at each other silently. Finally, one of us blurted to look up to God in prayer. An immense realization came to us. We had forgotten to call to God for help.
Without hesitation, we bowed down our heads and each one said his sincerest prayer gushing forth from the depths of his heart in the plea for guidance, protection and preservation.
That moment I recalled the biblical passage in Romans 10:13: “Those who call on the name of the Lord will be saved.”
Surely, as this verse holds true, the moment we agreed in an “Amen” the clouds before us burst as if to unveil the brightest ray of hope shining for us.
There, hundreds of feet below us were the galvanized-iron roofs of houses glittering under the afternoon sunlight. The clouds opened and cleared for a brief moment in time – only about ten minutes – after which it closed again in utter thickness.
Praising God for His glorious majesty, we scampered down the path knowing that His provision for our survival was waiting for us below.
By five that afternoon, we arrived at Brgy. Upper Masulog, Canlaon. We have literally traversed the border of Negros Occidental and Oriental.
Warmed by the house we were in and safe for the night, an immense realization came to us. We were thinking of our other two companions.
We climbed back to the campsite to inform the team that we were safe.
A few hours after, Juli came back with the news that Allison and Lemuel were missing since the previous day. Jonas and I decided to travel back to La Carlota rescue operation for our companions.
As we travelled to La Carlota City for five hours, I could see in the distance the imposing figure of Kanlaon Volcano, a gargantuan mountain where the forces of nature could lead a disoriented mountaineer into confusion and, eventually to his death.
But for the three of us, it was on this very mountain where the Maker Himself, God Almighty, manifested His sovereignty and tremendous love for His children by sparing us from sure doom.
As I closed my eyes trying to grab some sleep in the monotonous humming of the engine, I reflected on the verse from Isaiah 59:1: “Surely, the arm of the Lord is not too short to save, nor his ear too dull to hear.”
Indeed, God is so merciful that He showered His mercy on us though we do not deserve it. He heard our prayers and extended His arms to save us from utter destruction.
THE AFTERMATH.
Lemuel de Jesus was considered missing until he was found alive three days later in a place called Guintubdan. He was found by a native of the place who went out with his dog to gather rattan.
Without a survival food pack, Lemuel ate what he had along – a roll of tissue paper and some tablets of Diatabs. Dehydrated and weak, he had survived the ordeal with one leg injured and a slight frostbite due to too much exposure to the cold.
The decomposing body of Allison was found 13 days after the incident with the aid of helicopters and rescuers. He was presumed to have died the very day we got separated and lost. He died of massive injuries after falling from a series of stair-like ridges, each measuring up to five feet high.
By June the next year, I joined the team in climbing Mt. Kanlaon
again. There in clear weather, I was able to see the spots where I had experienced a dramatic event with Allan and Jonas.
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| He ain't heavy - he's my son. |
That was the last time I ever joined a mountain climb because of my hectic schedules doing prioritized activities.
But I have not closed the chance of scaling the heights again and savoring the overwhelming sensation of adventure.
Nothing is final. But one thing stands certain – that the God of nature Himself would never forsake His loved ones.
First published in the Central Echo, Official Student Publication of Central Philippine University, Iloilo City, January-March 1998 issue.
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First published in the Central Echo, Official Student Publication of Central Philippine University, Iloilo City, January-March 1998 issue.
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